The Kissing Booth Truth
by AshyPhoenix
Summary: The lacrosse team is participating in a kissing booth for charity. Stiles, Scott, and the rest of the team take part and it ends with surprising results.


"This is stupid," Scott McCall said to his best friend.

"Dude, it's for charity!" exclaimed Stiles.

"Doesn't make it any less stupid."

"What's with the bee in your bonnet? I thought you would appreciate something like this. We're raising money for a good cause! A cause, I may add, that actually has meaning to you, personally! What gives, man?"

Scott couldn't exactly pinpoint why he was so against the idea of the lacrosse team participating in a kissing booth to raise money for the Beacon Hills Animal Shelter. He knew it would raise a lot of money for sure; the lacrosse team was made up of all the best looking guys Beacon Hills High had to offer and he knew all the girls wouldn't mind paying $5 for a kiss or two from the player of their choice, but for some reason it left a bad taste in Scott's mouth (figuritvely speaking, that is).

"I don't know, Stiles. It's just kind of..." Scott couldn't find the words.

"Hmm, gross? Is that what the big bad wolf is a afraid of? There being a chance you might get mono?! Can you even get sick? I didn't think you could get sick."

Scott shook his head. "Stiles, I'm not afraid of getting mono. I just don't like that it's a competition. Like why did they have to say whichever player earns the most money gets a prize? That's just begging for a fight."

Stiles started to laugh. "Are you serious? That, THAT, is what has you all clammy? Scott, my man, you have nothing to worry about, seriously. You're definitely going to win."

"I don't care about winning. I just don't want to raise more than Jackson. He's already out for blood."

"Scott, who the hell cares? Really, who cares if more people kiss you over Jackson? Can you really blame them? Before he got with Lydia, Jackson was a man-whore of epic proportions. Almost every girl in this school has already had their mouth somewhere on Jackson, and they didn't have to pay for it then, so what makes you think they're going to do it now?"

Scott smiled. He knew Stiles was trying to make him feel better. "Stiles, we may see it that way, but Jackson won't. He'll just see it as another time I did something better than him."

"Scotty, my main man. My cute little ferocious puppy of cuteness, just stop. Go out there, mack on anyone and everyone, and show that mindless pile of meat who the real MVP is."

"Okay, okay, you're right. It's not a big deal and really who even knows if I'll get more than him. I'm worrying for no reason at all."

Stiles wrapped his arm around his best friend, "That's the spirit! Go out there and kill 'em! Well, I mean, not really. Don't actually go out there and get all "grrrr" and tear people limb from limb. No, that would be bad. VERY bad."

"Do you really think this "cute little ferocious puppy of cuteness" would break anyone's limbs?"

"Just their hearts, my man, just their hearts."

* * *

The gymnasium was was filled with people. More people than Scott or Stiles thought there would be.

Scott and Stiles started walking to their assigned seats. There was a row of stools at the far end of the gym where each lacrosse player would sit. Stiles and Scott were the last two to arrive.

"Stilinski, McCall, nice of you to join us. Why were you late? Got caught up practicing your lip action on each other?" Jackson quipped and the rest of the team giggled.

Scott and Stiles took their seats and Stiles said, "Sorry, we didn't invite you to watch, Jackson. There's always next time, but until then, I'm sure you'll be seeing us in your wet dreams just like every other night," and then he winked at the jock.

Jackson got red in the face and started to breathe heavy. "You're lucky I don't pulverize you right here, right now, Stilinski."

"Wow, "pulverize", huh? That's a big word. Maybe there's more than one peanut in that empty bucket of a head you got after all."

Jackson stood up and clenched his fists. "I don't know when you decided to grow a huge pair of balls, Stilinski, but just remember I could hurt you. You and your little butt-buddy. I'm giving you a free pass, but this is the one and only time that will ever happen, so you better appreciate it."

Stiles swallowed the cantaloupe-sized lump in his throat and said, "Noted. I will remember that. Thank you, kindly."

Scott leaned over and whispered to Stiles, "What the hell was all of that?!"

"I guess I grew some balls. For a second anyway, now they've gone back into hiding."

Coach blew his whistle to get the room's attention. "Alright, ladies and other specimens, welcome to the first annual Beacon Hills Lacrosse Kissing Booth For Animal Cruelty Awareness! Now for all you hormonal nutcases out there, the goal for today is to earn money for the poor defenseless animals over at the animal shelter, not to satisfy your perverted fantasies. Each kiss, from the player of your choosing, costs $5 minimum. The more you decide to donate the better. You are limited to one kiss per player. Each player has a bottle next to them for donations. The player who earns the most money for the cause will win an as of yet undetermined prize. Exciting, right? Okay, get your puckers glossed and ready, it's go time!"

* * *

"Time's up!" Coach announced.

Harley pulled away from her kiss with Stiles. "Not bad, Stilinski, definitely, worth the five bucks."

"Just five bucks? Baby, I'm worth so much more."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Stiles. Arrogance is not an attractive quality."

"Pssh, tell that to Jackson."

"But, Jackson's hot. He's allowed to be arrogant."

Stiles looked at Harley in disgust. "Oh, so what you're saying is I'm not hot? Well, then. Way to crush a guy's spirit, Harley."

Harley smirked and gave Stiles a small peck on the lips, "You're hot, just not hot enough."

Stiles stuttered in bewilderment. "Uhm, okay. I'll accept that back-handed compliment."

"So, if you would all give us twenty minutes to count the earnings and then meet back in here for the winner announcement, that would be marvelous," said the Coach.

As everyone cleared out of the gym, Stiles and Scott decided to sit in the bleachers while the coach and his army of volunteers counted the teammates earnings.

"So, that was QUITE the experience, am I right?" Stiles said.

"That's one way of putting it."

"Well, how would you describe it?"

Scott grimaced and said, "Sloppy. I just want to wash my mouth out with bleach."

"There had to have been one or two out of that mob that gave good lips. They couldn't have all been bad."

"I can only remember the bad ones."

"I had two delicious kisses."

"Both by Harley, right?"

Stiles blushed. "You think she likes me? I mean she kind of said I was hot and she did give me a two-for-one deal. I don't know. I don't want to look too much into it."

"She's had a crush on you since the fourth grade, Stiles. I think you both have been in denial."

"Really, the fourth grade? How come I never saw it?"

Scott put his arm around his best friend. "You never have been one to catch on to subtle hints, Stiles."

"Whatever, dude. I just never looked at Harley that way."

"Not until you locked lips with her that is."

"Exactly."

"Sometimes, that happens. You don't always notice a person right away, even if they are right in front of you. We're so used to seeing people in certain lights, that it's hard to picture them any other way."

Stiles just stared at Scott in silence.

"What? You're freaking me out. Stop staring at me like that."

Stiles blinked his eyes and shook his head. "Uh, nothing. Nothing. You just make a valid point. Sometimes you don't notice a person even if they have been there with you since the diaper days. Sometimes, we can't let ourselves see what's been there all along, because we're scared. We're scared of ruining something that's already great, and if you try and change it, it might not work out, and if it doesn't work out you can never go back to playing the same roles you used to play. Everything will be different. That's frightening and-and-and some people just don't have the balls to go after something that may just change their lives for the better, because all they can think about is that small miniscule chance that it might ruin everything. I-I-I-,"

"Stiles," Scott cut off his friend's rambling. "What the hell? I didn't think your feelings for Harley ran that deep."

Stiles looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. "Harley, right. Yeah, me either. I guess the more I think about it, the more it makes sense, but it also scares me half to death. Why did you have to make me think?"

"Hey, I didn't make you do anything. I can't help how you feel."

Stiles scuffed, "Yeah, neither can I."

Scott and Stiles noticed that everyone was coming back into the gymnasium.

"I guess it's time to find out who won," Scott said.

Coach entered the building and immediately got down to business. "Let me tell you guys, I can't believe how much freaking cash you people spent on these dopes. I'm thinking we need to do another kissing booth charity event to fund new uniforms and equipment for our lacrosse team. I'll be sending out information regarding that event in due time, please be on the lookout. Okay, after three recounts, yes THREE recounts, we've finally tallied up the amounts and I have to say the results were quite surprising. There was a tie between are two star players, Jackson Whittmore and Scott McCall! Can you two lugs get over here?"

Scott, ignoring the death glares that Jackson was throwing him, walked over to the Coach.

"Alright, so here's the tie-breaker; someone who hasn't paid to kiss either of these two can come up here, pay $5 and break the tie with their choice. Any takers?"

Silence.

"Come on, there's not one person in this room that didn't pay to play tonsil hockey with either of these guys? Are you serious?"

"I'll do it."

"Who said that? Whoever you are, you sound like a manly woman."

"I said I would do it."

Coach started to laugh. "Stilinski! Get out of here."

"Why?"

"Because you're not a girl, Stilinski, that's why."

"But you didn't ask for a girl; you asked for a person. Last I checked, I'm qualified for that category."

Coach gave Stiles a curious look before saying, "Okay, Stilinski. Go for it. Pick your poison."

"Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!" Scott said.

"I'm not kissing him! I'm not kissing you, Stilinski!" Jackson said with a puffed faced.

Stiles gave Jackson a matter-of-fact look and said, "Good, because you weren't the one I was going for anyway. I wouldn't kiss you even if it was to save poor beaten puppies. You probably have herpes you over-compensating jock-strap. You know you want these luscious lips deep down. You can't fool me, buck-o," and with that Stiles gave him a wink and a nod.

"Stiles, seriously, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you really don't need to do this. I'm fine with a tie. It's fine. It's great, even."

"Scott, shut up, please."

It was like time moved in slow motion. Before Scott knew it, Stiles had his face cupped gently in his hands and was planting his lips on his own. _"You don't always notice a person right away, even if they are right in front of you,"_ Scott heard his own words in his head as his lips moved oh so tenderly over Stiles's, and then he remembered what Stiles had said: " _You can never go back to playing the same roles you used to play. Everything will be different."_

As the two boys stopped kissing, Scott opened his eyes and looked into the eyes of his best friend. For the first time, he really looked. "We can never go back to playing the same roles we used to play."

Stiles smirked, "Everything will be different."

Scott took a hold of Stiles's face. "Everything will be different," and then pulled his best friend in for another kiss and gave him a little taste of what was to come.


End file.
